


The Glass Wall

by ShatterTheNexus



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, angsty entree, half priced happy hour apps, is there a dessert? we'll find out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatterTheNexus/pseuds/ShatterTheNexus
Summary: The glass wall that separates them keeps Jinsoul sane while shattering every ounce of willpower Jiwoo has left. So naturally, Jiwoo smiles.
Relationships: Ha Sooyoung | Yves & Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul, Jung Jinsol | Jinsoul/Kim Jiwoo | Chuu
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	1. Summer Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> [Jinsoul during an OEC interview]  
> A blue betta is a type of fish that needs to be kept alone because it eats all the other fish in the tank. So I'm going to take over the group like that. :D

The radio blasts a song with a low bass and a catchy steel drum. Jinsoul nods her head to the rhythm. Her legs grew numb one hour into the drive. Two redheads with bangs flank Jinsoul in the backseat. The one tucked under her left arm overpowers the artist on the speaker. The one on her right snuggles deeper into a neck pillow. The girl sitting shotgun has been nagging for ten minutes.

“Haseul, what is this stain? It’s been here so long, it’s growing fuzz!” She leans closer to inspect the brown splotch on the dashboard, then curls into herself out of disgust.

“I think that’s the Vegemite smoothie Vivi dared me to drink. From the day you went blonde, cut across the campus parking lot, and made my heart stop. So eight months ago.” Jinsoul’s smirk mirrors the driver’s. “Jungeun, look! It’s the ocean!”

Jungeun’s red ears are long forgotten when the water comes into view. It’s sparkling and deep and expands so far, it makes Jinsoul want to explore its secrets miles under the currents.

There’s a squeak, then a low whisper. “Wow… It’s beautiful.”

She speaks slowly, entranced by the rolling waves. Jinsoul watches her girlfriend in silence, taking in how the sunlight makes her hair glint like fire.

“Isn’t it?”

Their eyes finally meet and the words tumble out of Jinsoul’s lips. “Not nearly as beautiful as you, Jiwoo.”

The way the girl’s eyes turn into crescents makes Jinsoul’s heart swell. Her cheeks hurt from smiling and she doesn’t think there’s a better feeling than this.

“Sharp turn!” Haseul announces.

Jungeun squawks when she clicks the camera and knows it’ll come out blurred. There’s a loud thump against the window frame before Vivi sits up and rubs her head. Jinsoul lets Jiwoo collapse into her side and presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“It’s a great angle. Very avant-garde.” Haseul sucks at lying. Then again, she isn’t trying very hard.

Jungeun grumbles about the wasted film. Haseul plucks it out of her hand and wedges it behind the air freshener clipped to the vents, marveling at it like it’s a golden plaque. Jungeun protests by slapping her half-heartedly. Haseul fights back as best as she can with one hand on the wheel. Jungeun almost snatches the Polaroid, but Haseul catches her wrist, eliciting a squeal that runs through the chromatic scale. The whines continue, but Jungeun lets her hand slide down into Haseul’s. Jiwoo scrunches up her nose, and Jinsoul knows Jiwoo’s about to tease her roommate. So Jinsoul gently scratches Jiwoo’s shoulder and leans into her to reach the open window. The wind wicks the excess warmth from her skin. Jiwoo reaches up too and slides her fingers between Jinsoul’s. Both of them feel it; it’s not close enough.

An erratic triplet of honks catches their attention.

“What the hell are they doing?” Haseul laughs at the car swerving behind them.

“Aww, Heejin,” Vivi coos.

Heejin is the palest Jinsoul’s ever seen her. Both of her hands grip the wheel at ten and two o’clock for dear life. The car drifts into the other lane every time she glances at the back seat in her mirror. Jinsoul’s jaw drops.

“Sweet freedom!” Chaewon cheers, popping out of the sun roof. She dabs just as Heejin rounds the bend on the highway. A dented graduation cap is strapped to her head with a bedazzled Princess Aurora belt.

“Hyunjin!” Jungeun berates as if the girl could hear her.

Hyunjin stares right at them from the passenger seat, cheap round sunglasses perched on her nose, and a shit-eating grin stretched across her face. She has the audacity to sit cross-legged, feigning meditation and making no effort to help.

The tires screech when Heejin slaps Hyunjin’s thigh and yells at her to get Chaewon back inside. She’s nearly in tears. Jinsoul pities the high school graduate when they finally arrive at Haseul’s family cabin. Heejin stumbles out of the car. She’s shaking and on her knees, worshipping the static ground. Hyunjin carries her inside without a word.

“Come on! Let’s check it out!” Jinsoul turns only to find Jiwoo already at the front steps, bouncing with energy, suitcase and purse by her side.

“You go on ahead! I’ll catch up!” Jinsoul calls back.

She helps Haseul unload the trunk. Vivi initiates an intense battle of rock, paper, scissors. The loser has to carry everything in one go. Haseul, being stubborn and prideful, takes the bait. Jinsoul slips away with her duffle bag before they can drag her in.

She takes a deep breath. There’s a piney scent to the furniture and walls. It’s unfamiliar, yet comfortable and inviting, calming even. Until Chaewon barrels past her and zooms up the stairs, skipping two at a time to call dibs on the bedrooms. Jinsoul takes her time climbing the steps. Her hand glides along the warm sanded railing like a greeting to the house.

She waves at Jungeun who tip-toes down the hall. Peeking into the first room, she spots Heejin on the bottom bunk wheezing into a paper bag. In the small room on the left, Chaewon is soaring through the air between the bed and futon (“The floor is lava!”). The third room seems empty so Jinsoul drops her duffle bag in the corner. Arms wrap around her waist and a warm cheek presses against her shoulder.

“Sorry, stranger, but I’m taken,” says Jinsoul lazily. She can’t keep the smile out of her voice. It earns her a playful bite. She turns to hug Jiwoo and sees a suitcase littered with stickers propped up against the dresser. “You’re not rooming with Jungeun?”

Jiwoo nuzzles her nose just below Jinsoul’s ear. Her words come out muffled. “I, uh, asked if she would mind taking the spare room instead.” She tugs at the hem of Jinsoul’s shirt. A nervous habit.

Jinsoul’s eyes roam around and it’s then she notices the only bed in the room. A blush creeps up her neck. She’s sure Jiwoo can feel her pulse pick up. She doesn’t care. She threads her fingers through Jiwoo’s wavy hair and gives her a quick peck. Except Jiwoo’s always been addictive so she goes in for another. Jiwoo’s hands run over exposed skin and a shiver runs down Jinsoul’s spine. She lets out the smallest of whimpers, feeling Jiwoo smirk into the kiss.

“Ooh la la!” Haseul sniggers as she drags five bags down the hall. “Use protection! Consent is sexy!”

Vivi flings a flip flop at Haseul’s rear. She shoots the couple a knowing look, one eyebrow raised so high it disappears under her bangs.

Jiwoo can’t look at Jinsoul afterward, but she’s bold enough to nudge her toward the bed. They flop down, hair splayed all over the pillows. Jiwoo cuddles closer, humming into Jinsoul’s neck while tracing the creases on her palm. Giggles burst like delicate bubbles because apparently Jinsoul’s life line is long, yet stops so abruptly. It’s awkwardly blunt by the wrist.

Jinsoul gazes up at the cloud-painted ceiling. It’s going to be a great summer vacation.


	2. Gratitude and Jägerbombs

Jiwoo walks through a spritz of floral mist, then scans herself in the mirror one last time. Jungeun had left her behind with a whispered “Spice it up a little,” a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, and a loaned dress thrown at her face. It’s low-cut, dangerously so, and fitted around the waist with a flared skirt. A touch of elegance, a pinch of flirty. Jiwoo isn’t narcissistic, but even she gasps at her reflection. Her eyes flicker to the ruffled blouse and shorts tossed onto the bed. The ding of a notification distracts her.

_Hey baby, are you ok? 7 girls down here and none of them are you._

Jiwoo barks out a laugh. The attached photo of Jinsoul pouting is morally unfair. She stands up straight and rolls back her shoulders. This isn’t the time for regrets. Descending the stairs gives her the air of a Disney princess. Until her friends wolf-whistle and gawk, save for a smug Jungeun leaning against the couch.

“Everyone good to go?” Haseul asks, not bothering to be subtle about giving Jiwoo a once-over and a cheeky grin. She does a head count then begins herding the girls out.

“Ready?” Jiwoo asks, turning with her hand outstretched. Something catches in her throat.

She barely registers how amazing Jinsoul looks (black really is her color). But now that she’s in heels and meets her girlfriend eye to eye, a spark ignites between them. The way Jinsoul drinks in the sight of her makes her feel like gravity’s locking them in place, and their hold on each other keeps them from collapsing into the earth.

“H-how do I look?” Jiwoo stutters.

Jinsoul’s eyes flash. She bites her lip as if holding back a primal instinct. Jiwoo shrinks under the intense gaze. Her ears strain to catch a response, but Jinsoul only exhales because words are failing her tremendously. She steps forward and Jiwoo suddenly tastes strawberry. Fingers dance across Jiwoo’s waist. Nails scrape against Jinsoul’s scalp, threading through her hair. It’s almost _needy_.

Then Jinsoul pulls away, hands still on Jiwoo’s hips. The grating sequence of honks from the driveway is barely audible. Their ragged breaths are louder.

“I— S-sorry,” Jinsoul whispers. She leans her forehead against Jiwoo’s. “Sorry.”

Jiwoo kisses her, softly this time. Reassuring, because guilt radiates from Jinsoul. Jiwoo wants to tell her she didn’t cross a line; it was miles away, and maybe Jiwoo was redrawing it anyway. When Jiwoo shakes her head, Jinsoul’s follows. It takes an incredible amount of perseverance for her to step back and tug an obedient Jinsoul to the car. They don’t let go until they reach the town.

Soft fairy lights hanging between old glossy lampposts illuminate the boulevards. Gift shops buzz with tourists in their last hour of operation. The wooden signs hanging above the doors are carved, the lettering is weathered, and the hinges creak when a breeze passes through. It feels nostalgic and homey though it’s all new to Jiwoo. She hugs Jinsoul’s arm and points at the cute dolls in the window display. Then she drags her girlfriend across the cobblestone path to the pet store to mimic the fish in the black light tanks. Jinsoul usually joins in her antics, but Jiwoo only feels empty space. Shyly, she stops wobbling her head and lets the air out of her cheeks. Her hands drop to her sides, no longer serving as fins fluttering around.

A light peck lands on her nose. She freezes when Jinsoul murmurs, “You’re so cute. Why’d you stop?” That low, drawling giggle Jiwoo loves so much wipes her mind blank.

Jiwoo glimpses Jinsoul’s phone. A video had just been uploaded, the caption sprinkled with heart emojis. Before she can ask, Jinsoul crouches by the window. She chomps on air, her bright eyes wide, and follows the baby tortoise stomping on the straw littering its pen.

“Yum! Yum! I love lettuce!” Jinsoul’s voice is comically lower. The tortoise sneers back at her.

Jiwoo can’t resist. She rests her hands on Jinsoul’s shoulders and leans over. Her lips curl over her teeth before she nibbles at the blonde hair. Jinsoul pulls Jiwoo’s arms forward. With a glint of mischief in her eyes, Jiwoo falls limp and dumps all of her weight onto Jinsoul’s back.

“Hey!” Jiwoo squeals. “Put me down!”

“Nuh uh!” Jinsoul hums defiantly.

Jiwoo clings to Jinsoul’s shoulders once her feet leave the ground. Jinsoul hops once. Her hands have a firm grip on Jiwoo’s thighs, fingers securing the hem of the dress, then she’s zooming down the street. She dodges a family and all the kids start cheering. She darts between a couple reaching for each other’s hands. Jiwoo shouts an apology over her shoulder. Jinsoul giggles, not sorry at all. She runs until the cobblestone turns into pavement, then into wooden planks.

“Stop! We’re gonna fall in the water!” Jiwoo screams. The metal chains and safety posts on the dock are the last things she sees. Bracing herself, she tucks her face into Jinsoul’s neck. All she can hear is panting. Deep, exhilarating breaths escaping. Jinsoul presses a kiss to Jiwoo’s temple and she dares to look.

The glow of the beachside town softens Jinsoul’s features. Her sharp eyes roam all over Jiwoo’s face. Her hair resembles a golden mane. The gentle wind sweeping off the water keeps it out of the way. Jinsoul rambles on, every syllable an opportunity to flash her teeth. Yet her smile is always kind and genuine. Jiwoo swallows hard and exhales slowly. She winces when Jinsoul knocks their heads together.

“Are you even listening?”

“Y-yes.” Jiwoo’s blush goes unnoticed in the darkness.

“So you’re okay with it?”

The amusement dancing in Jinsoul’s eyes irks her. Jiwoo doesn’t give in. “Of course!”

“Great!” Jinsoul lunges forward. Jiwoo screams just as Jinsoul’s foot reaches the edge of the dock. “You said it was fine!” Jinsoul laughs so hard, she snorts.

“Alright! I was too busy staring at you, okay?!” Jiwoo jerks backward, kicking wildly. She tugs at Jinsoul’s shoulders as if holding the reins of a stubborn horse. Jinsoul doesn’t budge.

“You said you’re okay with jumping into the ocean as long as I keep you afloat.”

Jiwoo stops wriggling. Her mind drifts back to their afternoon barbecue on the beach near the cabin. Jiwoo wanted to play in the clear cool water. She had managed to float on her back, then a small wave swept her under the surface. Before she could gasp out of shock, Jinsoul had scooped her up. Fresh, salty air filled her lungs while Jinsoul’s warm embrace kept her safe.

She smiles and her lips linger on Jinsoul’s nape. They watch the beacon on a buoy flash rhythmically in the distance. The tide sloshes and churns, ten feet of water morphing into an endless abyss under the starry sky.

“Hey, Jiwoo.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

Jiwoo lifts her head to peer around Jinsoul’s shoulder curiously. “For what?”

Jinsoul searches the dark horizon. Her eyes sparkle like she’s struck gold. “For getting lost on the opposite side of campus.”

Jiwoo laughs, confused. “What are you talking about? I haven’t gotten lost since…” It strikes her, tugs at her heart. “Last August.” The day after a rushed orientation. Despite a frantic Jungeun blowing up her notifications with capital letters and symbols, she had stopped to admire the stunning blonde girl on the quad eating ice cream with two friends.

“And for running late to philosophy,” Jinsoul continues, “because the therapy dogs in the Student Center _needed_ tummy rubs.”

“They did! _One_ glance and they rolled over onto their backs. I couldn’t just leave them hanging! It’s my duty as a contributing member of society!” Jiwoo is dead serious.

Jinsoul has to bite her lip to restrain herself because Jiwoo is too angelic for this world. She shakes her head. Her gaze follows lines scribbled in the sky like she’s turning a page in the book of her life. “Then for falling asleep on my shoulder during the lecture on syllogisms—”

Jiwoo whines incoherently. Still she smiles because Jinsoul doesn’t know she had woken up ten minutes before class ended and didn’t bother to move.

“And for buying me coffee as compensation.” Jinsoul’s thumbs rub soothing circles on Jiwoo’s thighs. Her arms never tremble under Jiwoo’s weight.

Then she pauses. Something shifts in the air between them. The growing warmth of Jinsoul’s words is now painfully stagnant and it has Jiwoo on edge. Jinsoul’s eyes wander, glossy and unfocused. Jinsoul’s always harbored a delicate soul. So pure and dedicated. So incredibly loyal. What force dared to break her? Jiwoo wants to fight it. Lock it up and melt the key.

“For… For taking my breath away when I saw you walk hand in hand with Jungeun toward the dining hall.”

_Doubt._ Jiwoo’s spirit is clad in silver armor, sharpened sword clanging against her shining shield, challenging Doubt to a duel. She hates how cautious Jinsoul sounds. How her girlfriend’s head dips down and she sniffs. She hates how this is the first time she’s hearing about Jinsoul’s insecurity. It itches and throbs like a wound, because now she knows once upon a time Jinsoul thought she never had a chance with Jiwoo. Meanwhile Jiwoo had talked to her roommate about nothing _but_ Jinsoul for a solid month.

“Hey…”

At Jiwoo’s soft coo, Jinsoul lets her down gently. Jiwoo immediately spins her around. She holds Jinsoul in her arms and squeezes; a tornado couldn’t tear them apart. Jinsoul relaxes and Jiwoo feels all of the tension leave them. A drop lands on Jiwoo’s bare shoulder. When Jinsoul speaks, there’s an undercurrent of immense relief.

“And for stealing it again, when I gave you a tour of the aquaponics lab and you kissed me in front of the koi pond.”

Jiwoo pulls back and a childish grin lights up Jinsoul’s features once again. Her cheeks are still tear-streaked. Pure adoration balloons in Jiwoo’s chest. At the time, she had given Jinsoul a sweet chaste kiss because she felt embarrassed in front of the innocent baby koi, not yet old enough to court other fish. Now the shore was theirs alone, so Jiwoo leans in. She tries to convey all that she feels. Memories. Laughs. Featherlight touches and strong embraces. The craving for Jinsoul’s presence. The assurance of her attention. Love.

_I love you_.

Their lungs drink in air like they just discovered oxygen. Jiwoo realizes too late. She spoke. Whispered those three sacred words against Jinsoul’s lips in a moment of passion. For a beat, she wants to run. To protect herself because her emotions had gotten her into trouble one too many times to walk away unscathed.

Then Jinsoul says it back. Jiwoo thinks it’s all in her mind, hazy and delusional. But Jinsoul repeats it after every kiss. On her lips, along her jaw, desperately whispered in her ear before leaving a trail down her neck. Jinsoul settles there as her arms encircle Jiwoo, the words sinking into Jiwoo’s warm skin and fueling her rapid pulse. Jiwoo smiles into Jinsoul’s hair when they both choke out a sob.

“Found the lovebirds,” says Jungeun. She rolls her eyes with a fond smile.

“Awesome! Let’s hurry while the line’s short.” Vivi’s heels clack along the pavement.

“Line for what?” asks Jiwoo, pulling Jinsoul’s arm around her shoulders.

Jungeun brushes her hair to one side, revealing three shining piercings dotting the shell of her ear. She looks older, more mature, like she belongs. “Found a club after you two ran off. Looks popular so I thought we could check it out. First two rounds of shots are half priced.”

Jiwoo tugs at Jungeun’s elbow and whispers, “A club? You don’t drink. Or dance. And certainly not past ten at night.” She snickers at Jungeun’s blush peeking through the make-up. Jinsoul sports the same teasing grin as Jiwoo.

“No, but Haseul’s always going to parties during the semester. I thought, maybe… I don’t know.” Jungeun huffs in frustration.

“Where is Haseul anyway?” Jinsoul asks. She stretches her neck to peer over the crowd. 

Vivi rummages through her clutch for her ID. “She changed her mind and left for the arcade. Something about Hyunjin chucking skee balls, Chaewon pickpocketing children.”

Jungeun almost trips over a small pothole. Jinsoul reaches over Jiwoo and pats Jungeun on the shoulder.

“C’mon, we can still have fun tonight. You have all summer,” says Jiwoo.

The bouncers take once glance at them, two at Jiwoo, and let them past the velvet rope. Jinsoul can’t ignore the pinpricks in her chest and holds Jiwoo protectively. With the bass overriding their heartbeats, Jiwoo sinks into an adrenaline rush. She pulls Jinsoul into a kiss as she struts backward onto the main floor because she’s just glad her fake ID hasn’t failed her yet. Vivi coos at how Jungeun has never flashed her own since the older girl gifted each of them one.

Jungeun scowls when she gathers the four around a standing table, impatiently shoving amber glasses of tequila into each of their hands. They barely clink for a boomerang video before she downs hers. Jiwoo’s kind of impressed. She’s never witnessed Jungeun touch an ounce of alcohol. (The bottle in the girl’s precious cleaning cabinet doesn’t count.) Jungeun doesn’t flinch. The couple hisses, Jiwoo more than Jinsoul. Vivi reappears (when had she slipped away?) with two fizzing murky concoctions. Jiwoo eyes it warily. Jinsoul sniffs it and recoils, yelping with amusement. It sounds so innocent in a hazy club.

“Jägerbombs? Devious.” Vivi and Jinsoul share a look, like they have far too much experience with it but it’s a challenge one never turns down.

Round one ends in shrieks and giggles. Vivi’s a trooper. She chugs it without a hitch. Jiwoo prays to the high strobe-lit ceiling. But before she can gag on the licorice stench, Jinsoul plucks the glass from her fingers and downs the entire drink.

“Trust me,” says Jinsoul, “you don’t want to try this without an escape route.”

They let the thundering remixes dull their senses. Vivi targets about five different people and Jiwoo can’t pinpoint who she’s locked onto. The oldest pulls Jungeun roughly by the shoulders, jokingly asks what her type is. Jungeun scrutinizes the mass of grinding bodies. They’re all taller than her and the only ones with short hair are male. Vivi scrunches up her nose and decides they’re still way too sober. Jiwoo chats with Jinsoul, who’s pressed up to her back. (“There’s room next to me.” “And drunk guys behind you.”) Jiwoo takes in the scene. It’s just the right amount of seedy to qualify for a few legendary mistakes, but the atmosphere buzzes with energy to keep you rooted. _Let loose_ , the club seems to coax. _Live it up and leave it behind_.

“Let’s dance,” Jungeun commands. She grabs Jiwoo’s wrist, but Vivi pulls them back.

“Hold up. Round two,” she says with a sparkle in her eyes under the blue lights.

Their cheers is uncoordinated. Some of the liquid sloshes onto the table, but the glasses part from their lips clean and dry. Jungeun holds it over her head before slamming it on the table. The group weaves into the center of the dance floor as a sultry song mixed terribly with EDM beats rumbles from the speakers.

It’s so uncomfortably warm. Sweat trails down their necks but Jiwoo pulls Jinsoul even closer. They sway in time and Jiwoo doesn’t think she’s ever been this confident, this fluid around Jinsoul. She doesn’t have time to think of anything else. Jinsoul spins her around and slides her hands down Jiwoo’s hips, her front flush against Jiwoo’s back. Jiwoo’s hand reaches up and over her shoulder to comb through Jinsoul’s hair. She gives an insistent tug. Jinsoul dips her head down obediently. Lips mark a white-hot trail and with a smirk, she gently scrapes her teeth along the shell of Jiwoo’s ear. Jiwoo’s head lolls back onto Jinsoul’s shoulder, her mind drunk on bliss and spirits, drifting further away.

Jiwoo’s almost lost in their clouded fantasy. Then her best friend’s voice grounds her. Jungeun’s separated from them, talking with a guy. Jungeun searches for an escape. Jiwoo untangles herself from her girlfriend and manages to slip between people without tripping over air, despite the room tilting like a fun house. She snakes an arm around Jungeun’s waist, slurs a “Hey babe, was lookin’ for you.” They leave him confused, perhaps with his pride knocked down a peg or two. Jiwoo laughs and feels Jungeun relax. Vivi takes Jungeun’s hand and twirls her into the fold, ensuring Jungeun’s snuggly between all of them.

Three more songs blur together, then they’re drawn to the sinful elixirs once again. Vivi suggests a game. That glint is back in her and Jinsoul’s eyes. Jiwoo wants to ask, but Vivi’s already talking up the bartender.

Jinsoul leans across the counter. “Fair warning. If you lose, you decide if it’s a punishment or reward. Don’t think too much.” The drawling lilt in her voice tells the younger girls most people consider it the latter. Jiwoo wonders if Jinsoul ever lost, or rather if she won.

Jiwoo doesn’t understand why she’s shouting superhero names over the music while Jinsoul screams animal species she’s sure are made up. (“ _Equus bigdiqus?_ Really _?_ ”) Jungeun rapidly lists the coordinates of the five most recently discovered stars but none of it is decipherable. Vivi and Jinsoul slap the counter with a battle cry of “MICKEY MOUSE!” and suddenly Jiwoo and Jungeun have lost the game. Jinsoul asks something. Jiwoo doesn’t catch it.

“What’s… What’re you… Don’t season me, Vi, mm on a diet.” Jungeun whines when Vivi holds her still and brushes Jungeun’s hair to one side. Jiwoo’s attention homes in on the pile of salt nestled in the dip of Jungeun’s collarbone.

“Bottoms up, baby,” Jinsoul breathes into Jiwoo’s ear.

Jiwoo stares at the chilled shot glass in her hand. She doesn’t remember taking it. Jinsoul whispers something to Vivi who nods giddily, then grabs a green wedge off the counter. Jungeun calls out for her roommate. Her voice devolves into a drunken howl.

Jiwoo has the urge to howl back. Her body moves on its own. She winces at the liquid burning down her throat. Her hand curls around the back of Jungeun’s neck, her tongue lapping up the salt. The grains rolling across Jungeun’s smooth skin push the girl into overdrive. Jiwoo feels nails dig into her waist, hears Jungeun swallow and gasp. The name that tumbles out is softer than her own.

“H-Haseul—”

Jiwoo’s thirsty. The salt dries up her mouth. She looks around and the world lags. Then someone tilts her head up. Her teeth bite down into citrus. The juice mingles with the salt, nullifying the taste. Jinsoul removes the peel from her mouth and tosses it onto the counter, kissing Jiwoo full on the lips. Jiwoo can only process that half the salt’s gone now, replaced by the sweetest sensation.

She grunts when her back hits the wall, but she doesn’t feel any pain. Hands roam frantically, hungrily. Whether they’re hers or Jinsoul’s, she doesn’t know and doesn’t care. A cool breeze ghosts over her thigh, then a searing hand teases beneath the skirt of her dress. Jiwoo’s fingers slip under the hem of Jinsoul’s shirt. Nails mark up her girlfriend’s back. Her other hand is tangled in blonde tresses. Above all the spilled liquor and smoke and sweat, Jinsoul smells delicious. Jiwoo whimpers from the sore pressure on her neck. Pride encourages Jinsoul further. She trails her tongue down and drags her teeth at an agonizing pace. Jiwoo’s on the verge of cursing when she feels a smirk against her skin.

“Up,” Jiwoo growls.

And _oh no_ , Jiwoo’s stomach flips at the fire dancing in those dark irises. Her eyelids flutter shut as she moans against Jinsoul’s lips. Jiwoo’s thumb caresses the taut muscles above the buttons of Jinsoul’s tight jeans. She breaks the kiss. Jinsoul wastes no time, her head dipping down and peppering Jiwoo’s chest with teasing pecks.

“S-Soul.”

It takes so much strength to speak coherently. When her girlfriend hums, the vibrations against her throat nearly send her to heaven.

“Cabin. G-go back to the cabin…” Her voice trails off weakly.

Jinsoul doesn’t seem to have heard. Jiwoo gathers up all of her remaining focus.

“Jinsoul. I need you. _Now_.”

She’s shocked at how desperate she sounds, not at all like the command she had imagined. Jinsoul’s grip on her thigh grows slack. Jiwoo doesn’t let her slip away. She’s ready for this. While she has liquid courage in her veins.

“ _Please_.”

Jinsoul brings a hand up to Jiwoo’s cheek. Her touch is gentle, the raging heat from before dwindling into comfort. Jiwoo’s eyes are glazed over, but when Jinsoul locks gazes with her, everything rushes back. Jinsoul kisses her tenderly. She tucks a loose lock of hair behind Jiwoo’s ear and whispers lowly.

“Jiwoo, you drive me insane.” Jinsoul chuckles in a way that says she’s helpless and proud of it. “I want— need you too. But when we’re sober. Not like this. When we can remember, when I can make you feel special just like you deserve.”

Jiwoo wants to cry. She mutters those three words over and over, squishing Jinsoul’s cheeks. Jinsoul giggles and declares her love back. Her chest is still heaving and Jiwoo’s scent is intoxicating.

“I need some air,” says Jinsoul shakily. Jiwoo really appreciates the shy tinge of pink.

“Okay.” Jiwoo misses Jinsoul already, though they haven’t moved an inch. Her eyes travel to the bar. She spots Jungeun acquainting herself with two more shot glasses. “I’m gonna talk to Jungeun.”

Jinsoul laughs. It’s so free. She pecks Jiwoo on the forehead.

“Do me a favor? Drag your roommate’s ass here from the arcade. I’m on a mission.”

Jinsoul gives an honorable salute. Jiwoo marches over to the bar. A blowtorch taps shimmering liquid, then a row of rainbow glasses light ablaze. “Midnight madness!” someone screams and their friends whoop. Jiwoo stalks up to the hunched figure on the right, swipes the shot from Jungeun’s hand, and throws it back.

“Ask Haseul out.”

“I liked it better when your tongue was having tea and crumpets with Jinsoul’s.”

“Jungeun!” Jiwoo swings her friend around in the bar stool and grabs her by the shoulders. The floor is momentarily on the ceiling and they both sway back. Jiwoo drapes herself over Jungeun. “You’ve been pining all year!”

“I’m _very_ aware!” Jungeun slurs back in what she hopes is an intimidating manner. One of her eyelids droops. The other eye glares sternly over Jiwoo’s shoulder.

“So?!”

“So!” Jungeun sighs in exasperation. “She’s always inviting us to parties. Stops by at two AM with burgers and Jinsoul with ice cream. Pulls pranks with Vivi. Skips classes for raves. Can’t walk across the quad without all of Greek row hitting on her. And I’m just…“

Jiwoo combs through Jungeun’s hair soothingly.

“I’m asleep. For all of it. Because I go to bed when everyone’s alive. I’ve got my nose in my books with tea at the crack of dawn and I watch Pokemon on Netflix while I clean. Clean, for _fun_. She’d never—” Jungeun scoffs. “She’s not even here. The one time, I thought I could be… She’s not even here,” she repeats heavily.

“Of course she’s not.”

Jiwoo and Jungeun nearly fall out of the single bar stool they’re piled onto. Vivi ambles up to them, her hands catching her weight against the countertop, but she speaks perfectly fine.

“Gee, thanks,” Jungeun spits bitterly.

Vivi rolls her eyes, then regrets it as she teeters back. Jiwoo tugs her into their group cuddle. “She gets so touchy when she’s drunk. I had to peel her off of me at the party after finals.”

She catches Jungeun’s scathing look and pecks her cheek to soother her. It doesn’t work.

“Y’know all she cries about is how hot you look. How cute you are drowning in a hoodie. How she wants to share one!” Vivi shoves a finger between all of their faces. Jiwoo and Jungeun go cross-eyed. “Cup! Of coffee! With you. She giggles at using the same straw. And another thing!”

Jungeun’s eyes are wide now and her nose is pressed up against Vivi’s cheek. She yells at a passing patron to shut off the lights so she can hear better.

“ _She_ thinks that _you_ think that _she_ thinks that _you_ are— Wait.” Vivi scratches her head. Then sneezes over Jungeun’s shoulder. “She wants to be so cool like the poor glaciers—”

“And the penguins!” Jiwoo pumps a fist in the air. The crowd around them chants for penguins.

“That she doesn’t wanna look stupid. She was fine before, when she just got to know you. You cutie patootie little freshman. But then she started fawning over you in physics. Couldn’t study with Jinsoul in peace. Now, with a helping hand from Miss Malibu,” Vivi glances at the glass shelf lined with bottles, “she’d kiss the ground you walk on.”

At this close of a proximity, Jiwoo can see Jungeun’s pupils dilate. She thinks her mission was a success, doesn’t matter if Vivi did most of the talking. It was her idea! But then Jungeun wails and Jiwoo’s thankful her ears have been shot by two hours of drumming bass.

“I should’ve ditched you for her. I don’t want coconut rum, I want hot cocoa with her!”

Vivi groans. Then a voice drifts above the din, clear like bells. They freeze.

“With who?”

Their hands fly up in a gesture of surrender as if at gunpoint.

Haseul eyes them suspiciously. “How drunk are y’all?” She taps her foot and raises an eyebrow.

The music is still atrociously loud, but they can all hear the squeak of Haseul’s leather jacket when she crosses her arms. Jiwoo shoots a panicked look at the others.

Jungeun’s effectively drooling. “Oh. My goddess…”

“Mmmm gotta pee! Jiwoo, race you!”

Vivi tags Jiwoo, thought it’s more of a shove. Jiwoo clambers off of Jungeun and stomps toward the poorly lit hallway at the back of the club. They giggle and slam into the wall, rolling over its surface since they can’t trust themselves to walk. A flush sounds from inside and Vivi looks up in alarm.

“M‘kay I _really_ gotta tinkle.” Vivi darts into the bathroom.

Jiwoo figures she might as well too, deciding she’s done with drinks for the night. Her vision still drags delightfully. Vivi cries that she’s locked in a stall. Jiwoo pulls at the top of the door, letting it swing open easily. They end up washing their hands together in one sink to “save soap and water.” They share a paper towel too and laugh about how it squelches.

They prance back out to the main floor. Vivi wolf-whistles at Haseul straddling Jungeun on that trusty bar stool for a sloppy make-out session. Haseul nearly jumps off of Jungeun. She stares horrified at the girl who’s giggling dreamily.

“Oh my God, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry. You’re drunk! I shouldn’t have—”

Jungeun stands up, wobbling dangerously while relishing in the extra two inches she has in height, and kisses Haseul hard. Haseul melts in Jungeun’s arms as if she’s the one intoxicated.

“I’m gonna remember this night forever,” mumbles Jungeun, boring holes into Haseul’s forehead, but her eyes are full of stars. She leans in again.

Jiwoo presses a palm to her face and shoves her back. She addresses Haseul, who resembles a puddle of goo gripping onto Jungeun’s biceps for support.

“Where did Jinsoul go to hide while you jumped on my best friend’s lap?”

Haseul shakes her head, cheeks flushed. “I thought she was here.”

“I told her to bring you from the arcade.”

“Didn’t see her outside. I bought the kids snacks, then I came here by myself.”

Jiwoo tries a little harder to focus. She doesn’t register exiting the club, but the bass is muffled and her wheezes are deafening. It’s not just air. She hiccups, high strangled squeaks piercing her ears. Her vision blurs, the lights bleeding into streams. She takes off at a run. She doesn’t know why. She just knows the pavement seems to be rolling backward like a treadmill and Jinsoul’s not holding her hand, so she’s way too far for Jiwoo’s comfort.

“Jin… Jinsoul?” She huffs as she runs past the pet store. “Jinsoul!”

A few people grumble when she bumps into them. Her phone clatters to the ground. The time blinks back up at her, half past midnight, but her notifications are empty. She staggers down the cobblestone street, yelling so loud her calls bounce back at her. She flinches. It’s getting stronger, heavier. That force coiling around her lungs and settling in the pit of her stomach.

Lightbulbs flash across a huge signboard. Jiwoo dashes into the arcade, palm slamming against the claw machine window as she doubles over. Her throat feels like sandpaper. Her cheeks are wet and flushed. _Move_. She wills herself step by step.

“Jinsoul!”

“Oof. Whoa there. It’s Hyunjin. Say it with me. Hyun. Ji— Are, are you crying?” Hyunjin’s grin drops in an instant. “Heejin, get over here. Something’s wrong!”

Jiwoo starts heaving, clinging onto an arm when her knees buckle. “Jinsoul. Where’s Jinsoul?”

“We haven’t seen her all night,” says Hyunjin.

“Shh, Jiwoo. Tell us what happened,” coaxes Heejin.

Jiwoo opens her mouth, words threatening to spill out. But she says nothing. Hyunjin holds her close. The comfort of her body temperature helps the room right itself, though the neon lights still burn Jiwoo’s retinas. She tries again. “She’s not. She’s not with me.”

“We don’t understand.”

“She came to get Haseul but she didn’t come back!”

Hyunjin bows her head to the nearby patrons. “Let’s get out of here first.”

They all shuffle outside. The crisp air would normally calm Jiwoo, but it’s so much colder tonight. Heejin and Hyunjin crowd around her worriedly, rubbing her arms for friction.

“Hey!” Jungeun and Vivi nearly crash into the huddled group, Haseul between them to support their weight. “Jiwoo, don’t just run off like that,” Haseul chides. She does a head count. “Where’s Chaewon?”

A beat drops before a spitfire rap sweeps in with a caller ID. Jiwoo’s phone blinds her as she tries to swipe the screen. “Chaewon?”

There’s some rustling. Someone retches. “Jiwoo?” Chaewon’s voice is thin and faded. “You better come quick. I-I think… Jinsoul looks really sick. We’re behind the arcade.”

Heejin catches the phone a foot from its demise with Chaewon still on the line. Jiwoo wriggles out of Hyunjin’s hold. She claws her way down the dim alley, the rough bricks scraping into her soft palms. A shadow in the distance slumps over. Jiwoo runs, sober enough to avoid the trail of questionable splatter at the end of the pavement. The back patio is empty save for a small girl crouching over a body.

Jiwoo’s knees hit the ground. The sharp tingling of raw skin is nothing compared to the withering ache in her chest at the sight of Jinsoul’s pale face. She’s drenched in sweat and shivering violently. Jiwoo cradles her girlfriend. Tears fall into messy blonde hair. Jinsoul’s head is so heavy on her shoulder. Her skin is freezing.

Haseul drapes her leather jacket over Jinsoul’s bare arms. She rubs Jiwoo’s back. Her voice drops to a whisper so as not to scare the girl. “Come on. We should get her back to the cabin. We’ll watch her overnight.”

Jiwoo’s body is racked with sobs, but she refuses to leave Jinsoul’s side. She supports her girlfriend by the waist. Haseul pulls an arm over her own shoulder. The group helps lay Jinsoul in the back seat of Haseul’s car. Jinsoul groans in discomfort. Her breaths are shallow. Her veins are darker, more prominent as if her skin was stretched thin. Jiwoo brushes the matted hair away from Jinsoul’s face. Her thumb trails down the long neck, resting on a new bruise forming. The world blurs again. She presses a shuddering kiss to the splotch of purple.

“You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you. We’re going to be fine.”

Somehow Jiwoo doesn’t believe it.


	3. Awake

Jinsoul keeps walking. Forward, backward, she doesn’t know. It looks the same in every direction. She tries to fall on her side and still she remains upright, elegantly treading an invisible line. Her body feels weightless. It sounds like she’s underwater. She’s tries to focus on the voices.

_“Stop…”_

_“Hold her down!”_

_“… lost it…”_

_“… can’t hear us…”_

_“… going to break…”_

_“You’re bleeding…”_

_“What do we do?”_

The words drift in and out. Clear as a bell when spoken, vanishing like smoke once heard. Jinsoul doesn’t have time to make sense of it. A force compels her to walk. But why? Why should she keep walking? What was the point?

Jinsoul stops. _Huh._

Though there’s nothing to see, no landmarks to go by, Jinsoul knows. If she doesn’t move, the world around her expands. If she could call it a world. It’s a strange place. Vacant.

Jinsoul grasps at her throat. It’s so dry. By reflex she looks around even if she knows she won’t find an oasis. She doesn’t want water. Something thicker, richer, with more minerals. The more she ponders it, the stronger her craving grows. The intensity adds to her impatience.

_Just. One. Drop._

There’s an ear-splitting scream. Jinsoul realizes it’s her own voice.

She stares at a sterile white ceiling. Her teeth are bared, her muscles throb, her bones might as well be splintered. She’s blinded. Everything burns. She wants to cry. For some reason she can’t. It makes her want to cry more, being denied the emotional release.

She screams again unwillingly.

_“Shh, shh. It’s alright. You’re safe here. Follow my voice.”_

Jinsoul staggers, now toward a straight-backed silhouette against the grey horizon. The weight of her sore limbs settles in. She clutches her arms closer, folds into herself like she’ll be ambushed at any second.

_“Follow my voice. I know you’re in there. I know it’s hard.”_

Jinsoul nods, sobbing loudly.

_“I know how the world scorches you. But it’ll only be for a little while. You’ll learn. You’ll grow stronger. Trust me.”_

Jinsoul isn’t sure if she wants to, but she has no choice. The lone figure seems to be her only escape from this nightmare.

_“Trust me. I’ll bring you back.”_

Jinsoul reaches out. The shadow turns, takes Jinsoul’s trembling hand, and walks.

Jinsoul feels a force tug on her very soul. Her back hits a spring mattress. She cries out again. The pain increases tenfold. But now she has control. She grits her teeth and swallows her voice. It tapers off into a groan, then labored pants. Jinsoul tries to grip her head, white-hot pain nearly splitting her skull, but something yanks her hand down. Her thin wrist is chained to a bed frame. She pulls and pulls. Steel against steel, it clatters mockingly.

Two hands press gently on her shoulders, coaxing her back onto the bed.

“Hey. Hey, shh. It’s okay. You’re safe here.”

Jinsoul stares up at the woman, wide-eyed. At least she didn’t lie. She brought Jinsoul back. Jinsoul doesn’t know where. All at once, she’s hypersensitive. She’s aware of three more chains restraining the rest of her limbs.

“Precautionary measures. They’ll be off soon,” the woman reassures.

She combs back Jinsoul’s hair. It’s soothing. Jinsoul doesn’t want to admit it. She wants to go back home. To her own room. To her family. To… Jiwoo. Where is Jiwoo? She wants to ask but her throat feels like sandpaper.

The woman reads her effortlessly. Jinsoul sits up slowly, fidgeting and shivering. The woman presents a capped aluminum cup with a straw. Jinsoul eyes it warily.

“Drink. I promise it’s not poison. Though I don’t know how much my word means.” She shrugs. “It’s about the only thing we _can_ drink, so don’t waste it. Come on now.”

Jinsoul figures she doesn’t have a choice if she’s really a hostage. When the liquid touches her tongue, it’s like the nectar of the gods. It flows down her throat with a silky smoothness. She closes her eyes, allows herself to breathe. It smells incredible. A bit metallic, but it adds depth to the flavor. The straw sucks on air, bubbling at the bottom of the cup. Jinsoul sighs in relief.

When she opens her eyes, she’s surprised at what she finds. The woman’s smile isn’t so much out of pleasure, rather filled with secrets skillfully hidden. She looks at Jinsoul like she _understands_. There are many stories on those lips. Experience has made those kind eyes sharp and trained. The woman gauges Jinsoul’s reaction, every movement she makes, every twitch of her muscles.

They still ache, duller now. Jinsoul doesn’t have the energy to fight. The woman sees this. She inserts a key and unlocks the four shackles. Jinsoul furrows her eyebrows as the woman continues to unlock more that she can’t see. They’re removed from the bed frame altogether and wound up like a rope.

The woman hovers at the door. From the thin stream of soft yellow light, Jinsoul sees the way her eyes crinkle. She has a wide disarming grin. She holds herself confidently, but not arrogantly. She chuckles under Jinsoul’s analytical gaze.

“I was just passing by. I…” She picks at the doorframe. “I remember what it was like. I see it all the time when I get someone new. Anyway, the door’s locked for your safety. But don’t worry. Someone will come if you buzz. I’ll see you around, I guess?”

She salutes to Jinsoul who nods back. The woman speaks to someone outside. The door clicks shut, muffling their voices. Jinsoul’s ears ring at this new sensitivity.

“Get her whatever she needs if it’s attainable. This one’s been through a lot.”

“So I’ve heard,” the guard says sympathetically. “Once she learns—”

“Shh, it’s not our place,” the woman chides.

Jinsoul wonders what they know about her. She wonders what rumor mill there is and among who. The room she’s being held captive in is comfortable. The bed is soft and quiet. The lights have dimmed since she awoke. There’s a table with stationary and two chairs. The bookshelf is fully stocked. There’s a bathroom off to the side. Jinsoul spots a toilet and a shower stall clearly in the mirror, though the lights are off. Her nightstand is a mini fridge full of capped aluminum and plastic cups. There’s a microwave in the corner of the kitchenette. The woman left the cup and straw in the small sink before leaving.

Now that Jinsoul is free to move around, she doesn’t want to. Exhaustion consumes her. She rolls over, brings her knees up to her chest, and pulls the covers around her tighter. Her reflection in the smooth obsidian wall stares back until she drifts off to sleep.

~|~|~|~

It’s been days. Finally after all her prayers, Jiwoo sits in front of her. Only now, Jinsoul wishes she would leave.

The doctor’s lips move without sound. Neither of them are listening. Jiwoo stares at her in disbelief, with longing and concern— No. Something deeper. Her neck strains with every breath as her eyes take in all of Jinsoul. Unwarranted fine-tuned empathy. She shouldn’t have to share in Jinsoul’s suffering. But that’s just how Jiwoo is.

Jinsoul can only look back in horror and disgust. Bile rises in her throat. It irritates the dryness that’s never gone for more than a few minutes. She wants to tear her eyes away. She tells herself she doesn’t deserve to. Unworthy of respite when a reminder of what she’s become exists inches away. She’s restless while willing her limbs to stiffen. The rest of their friends stand in the back with pitying expressions. Jinsoul doesn’t want them. She thinks they should be directed at Jiwoo.

Beautiful, compassionate, gentle Jiwoo with gauze wrapped so thickly around her forearm, she can’t hide it under her sleeve no matter how much she tugs at it. She tries every time Jinsoul’s eyes flicker down. They settle there indefinitely and Jiwoo realizes it’s a futile effort.

“Jinsoul?” the doctor tests.

“I did that,” she spits back. A low growl rumbles from deep within her chest. “I hurt her.”

“You didn’t know what you were doing,” Jiwoo says quickly. “You weren’t in control—”

“That’s no excuse!” Jinsoul stands up. Her chair skids back into the bed frame. Everyone winces at the harsh screeches. Jinsoul cradles her head in her arms and shouts. “I’m not supposed to hurt the ones I love!”

“Jinsoul. Please, look at me.”

Jiwoo sounds so desperate and broken. Despite knowing she’s the reason behind it, Jinsoul could never refuse. Jiwoo’s eyes are glossy. Jinsoul swallows and doesn’t allow herself the luxury of air. She steps closer, places her palm over Jiwoo’s. They retract their hands immediately. Jinsoul shakes hers as if her skin had been seared off. Jiwoo hugs her own hand like she’s a second away from frostbite.

“It wears off eventually. It becomes bearable over time,” the doctor supplies. She’s ignored.

“Listen to me. I need you to know.”

Jinsoul somehow finds the courage to meet Jiwoo’s gaze. It’s so full of adoration, she loses all strength in her legs and crumples to the ground. Jiwoo slides off her chair and kneels before Jinsoul, hands flat against the glass wall dividing them.

“You’re still my Jinsoul. I love you, and I know you do too.”

Jiwoo’s absolutely right. Jinsoul loves her so much, she hopes Jiwoo can let her go. Jinsoul’s not worth the pain.

~|~|~|~

The tension is so thick, Jiwoo could cut it with a knife. Except she’s so, _so_ drained. Her wounds switch between sharp needle pricks and pulsing stings.

Jinsoul wouldn’t respond no matter how many times Jiwoo cried out to her. A murmur swept through the partitioned room. Haseul and Jungeun lifted her off the floor. She couldn’t fight back. She just stared at the lone figure on the floor, her face hidden behind a curtain of hair and her shoulders shaking, until the door cut off her line of sight.

Nobody knows what to ask.

The doctor clears her throat awkwardly. It never gets easier, but healing injuries comes first. “Miss Kim? If you’ll allow me, I’d like to change your bandages.”

Jiwoo furrows her eyebrows, only registering the request once the doctor kneels in front of her. She dips her head stiffly and watches the deft hands push up her sleeve, unravel the gauze, and peel back the stained sterile pads. The doctor works so quickly, the pain seems to subside until after her arm is rewrapped, as if her senses were delayed.

Haseul squeezes Jiwoo’s shoulder. “Dr. Im—”

“Please, call me Yeojin.” The doctor smiles because though everyone is far from cheerful, at least a visual cue might ease their minds.

“Yeojin. Will, uh, will Jiwoo be…” How does one describe this state of being? Infected? Changed? _Like Jinsoul?_ “Okay?” Haseul finishes lamely.

Yeojin sits on the corner of the coffee table. She nods. “Flesh wounds though they may be, Jinsoul isn’t old enough. Her immune system hasn’t adjusted yet, thus she can’t produce viable venom. She won’t for another few days. Even then it’s not potent.” She faces Jiwoo, speaking softly. “They should heal within a few weeks. Don’t overexert yourself and keep the stitches clean. If you ever need help, feel free to stop by. I can dress them for you.”

Jiwoo nods once, eyes unfocused.

“Question?” Yeojin asks kindly, meeting Vivi’s curious stare.

“Sorry, it’s just. You look awfully young to be a doctor.”

Yeojin chuckles. “You could say that about nearly everyone in this facility. I was turned shortly after my sixteenth birthday. Always a rebellious kid and quite hot-headed. Had a family spat. Snuck out in the middle of the night out of spite. Was halfway across the country when I could recognize myself. Needless to say I couldn’t go back. You tend to get bored after a century. You learn things about the world. I found an interest in medicine, how transformative and restorative it is. And in this facility, I found a purpose. Turning is a nasty business. Those who work here, well, we’d like to give the young ones what we never had.”

There’s a moment of silence out of respect.

“What is it like to turn?”

Heejin would usually scold Hyunjin for speaking so brusquely, but she holds her tongue. Second to Jiwoo, Hyunjin needs to know why she had to pry a crazed Jinsoul off of Jiwoo and restrain her until the others escorted the bleeding girl out of the room. She needs to know why they had to strap Jinsoul to the demolished bed frame and push furniture up against the door.

Jiwoo registers Hyunjin’s clenched jaw, her hollow eyes, fingers interlocked to keep them from picking at cracked cuticles. Jiwoo feels guilty because she doesn’t have the energy left to be in the same state.

Yeojin sighs deeply as if through all the decades of debriefings, she now pities her audience more than herself.

“It varies from person to person. But… At first, it’s like you’ve achieved eternal peace. Mind-numbing, reality-wiping, blissfully ignorant peace. That lasts about twenty-four hours, give or take a few. Then it hits you like a train. Or if you really want to be accurate, it’s like an anchor crashes down on you, hooks you by the spine, and yanks you out of a void. You’re thrown back to this world. You feel _everything_. It’s overwhelming for the body to adjust immediately. It drains all the nutrients from you in order to constantly heal and reform, which is why you go into a sort of feeding frenzy. You’re malnourished. It’s a physiological response to maintain homeostasis. A basic principle that persists even for us.”

It’s so casual like they’re sitting in a lecture hall. Then Yeojin’s voice fades to a raspy whisper. Jiwoo knows this is the closest a human can get to understanding so she’s relieved and stunned when Yeojin spares no details.

“But the hysteria is due to the pain. Relentless stimulation. Before you can process it all, you sense more. Your nerves fire constantly after a day of paralysis. Everything’s amplified and it’s agony. You see things so clearly, so brightly, you’re blinded. You can hear a pin drop three stories above you so your hearing’s shot and you’re nauseous from trying to stay balanced. You’re so sensitive, the slightest pressure is excruciating. At the same time, your strength is out of control. The only reason you don’t knock down a wall is because your dexterity is out the window. You don’t know where you are, who’s in front of you, or what your name is. And you’re not allowed to care because you _just need blood_. The thirst overrides rationality. In the presence of humans, of fresh blood coursing through veins? It’s insatiable.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to her earlier.”

Gasps come from every corner of the room. Jiwoo feels herself tense, wants to screech and leap off the couch because she’s so prone to jump scares, but her body doesn’t react. Jungeun clutches her chest and mutters a swear at the flash of purple next to her.

“Yerim, you know you have to exaggerate your footsteps around humans,” Yeojin tuts.

The girl dips her head bashfully. “It’s my job to be stealthy.” She turns to the others. “Your cabin was so far and by the shore. I followed the scent from town, but the water makes it hard to track.”

“Track?” questions Chaewon, squinting at the suspicious stranger.

“Yerim’s one of our best Seekers. She patrols for newly turned vampires and transports them to the facility as quickly as possible.”

“Vampirism isn’t a culture. It’s a stage of life we never asked for,” says Yerim. “The least I can do is make sure they wake up somewhere safe.”

“Safe.” The room goes quiet. Jiwoo’s neck cricks when she turns to the girl leaning against the door frame. “Jinsoul is safe here?” The words come out choppy as if she was just learning to speak.

“Very,” says Yeojin. “We provide Jinsoul with all the blood a young one needs right after turning. Where we were before, that’s her room for as long as she wants to stay here, no obligations. The glass wall is scent-proof so you can visit her if she’s available. We have professionals to help her in any capacity—”

“ _Available_?” Jiwoo snaps. Anger seeps into her bones. “Where else would she go? Where are you taking her?”

Yeojin’s eyes widen in surprise, but she waits patiently in case Jiwoo wants to yell more. Jiwoo does, about everything and nothing, but it’s difficult to articulate.

“Among our staff are a division of Handlers. They acclimate the young ones to our lifestyle. It’s hard to navigate without a mentor. Jinsoul will have designated sessions. She’s always free to request more or take breaks. I assure you she will be given the best care we can provide. We just want to get her on her own two feet.”

Jiwoo wants to throw up and it has nothing to do with the motorboat ferrying them back to the mainland. She feels like she’s been ripped in two. Jinsoul has to spend every waking moment surrounded by strangers. She has to learn how to live again. Perhaps exist is a better word, Jiwoo doesn’t know.

What she does know is that she has to be strong. She left her heart behind on that island. So she forces herself to sit in the ruins of her bedroom with tattered sheets and broken boards, and cry herself to sleep. She won’t shed a single tear in front of Jinsoul.

~|~|~|~

Jinsoul chucks another crane at the wall. Her hands move faster and faster until fatigue sets in.

Fold, crease, unfold. Turn. Fold, flap up, crease. Unfold, pull out.

“Knock knock.”

_Rip_.

Jinsoul glares at the door. Her expression softens when a familiar woman with straight hair black as midnight steps inside.

“A hobby of yours?” The woman nods at the pile of origami on the desk.

“I’m bored out of my mind, I miss my friends, and my throat feels like it’s on fire,” grumbles Jinsoul. She shreds the rest of the ruined paper.

“ _Mildly irritated,_ ” the woman says, shaking her head and pretending to take notes on a patient chart. She grins and tosses a colorful pack of square paper. “Heard you needed more.”

Jinsoul rotates it slowly in her hands. “Thanks.”

The woman shrugs. “It was on sale.”

“No. I mean, thanks. For before.”

The woman sits on the edge of the bed. “Of course. One of the worst things is getting out of there,” she taps Jinsoul’s temple, “alone. We all need a tether.”

Jinsoul wants to see her again. Jiwoo, who kept her grounded when life took too much out of her. One glance, just one smile, was enough to quell the storm in her mind. Jiwoo is so pure and faithful. And Jinsoul had shut her out. It felt like slamming the door on the string that tied them together. It stings so much whenever she tugs at it, willing the space between them to disappear. But whatever Jinsoul is now, it’s better that Jiwoo isn’t here. Better that she doesn’t see Jinsoul eyeing the metal cups in her fridge like they’d be stolen. Better that she doesn’t hear Jinsoul growling in her sleep, or see the metal bars on the bed frame bend when the thirst hits out of nowhere.

Jiwoo.

_Jiwoo_.

Days ago she told Jiwoo she loved her. She kissed her. Felt Jiwoo’s pulse against her lips in a dark, hazy club. Had she always smelled that sweet?

Warm.

Rich.

Clean.

_Fresh_.

“Hey, stay with me.”

Jinsoul’s on the floor, crouched with her teeth bared. The woman takes Jinsoul’s clenched fists into her hands. Her thumb rubs over each white knuckle until Jinsoul loosens her grip. Jinsoul falls back, head colliding with the edge of the desk and feeling nothing.

“I just wondered how Jiwoo would _taste_.” Jinsoul’s voice shakes so much, she barely understands herself.

Her throat flares up at the thought. Her pupils dilate. Her breaths become ragged. Eyes scan the room as if a warm body was nearby, ripe for the picking.

She clamps a hand over her mouth, throat burning like it’s drenched in acid but wanting so badly to satisfy that craving.

_I’m a monster._

“Jinsoul, listen to me. You can’t go back to the same life you had. But you can move on. Fight. Learn. Thrive. Take it all in and show the world you’re not done yet. It’s the best revenge you can take.”

Jinsoul curls into herself, whimpering on the floor. The woman offers her hand.

“Come with me. I’ll show you.”

~|~|~|~

_Next time. Next time. Next time._ Written in someone else’s hand, not Jinsoul’s.

Jiwoo shreds all of the notices into pieces. It’s far from relieving.

“There must be a reason. She’s level-headed and direct and… And Jinsoul wouldn’t leave me in the dark.” Jiwoo repeats it like a mantra all night.

Day after day, one rejection after another. She couldn’t stand the restlessness. She catches a boat to the island first thing in the morning. Now that she’s here, Yeojin looking up at her with kind eyes and Jinsoul nowhere to be found, she’s exhausted. Sinking into the couch of the visitors’ lounge, she tries to trick herself. She’s in the same building that Jinsoul lives in. They’re on the same plot of land.

It’s not enough. _She’s too damn far_.

She wants to hold Jinsoul again. Catch the breeze off the ocean and watch Jinsoul’s fingers reach up to lace together with hers. She wants to hear her voice in the moments before they drift off to sleep. She wants to stare at her for hours, memorizing every extraordinary detail somehow manifested in one person.

She wants to stride into that room and tell Jinsoul they’re doing fine. She’s doing fine. And all she wants is to help Jinsoul rehabilitate. Say all of that without her voice breaking, without her eyes watering. Because at such a critical time when Jinsoul’s confused and alone, she should know her loved ones are waiting with open arms and it’s not her fault.

The cushion shifts under the weight of the small doctor.

“I’m honestly glad you came alone,” says Yeojin, replacing the dressings on Jiwoo’s arm unprompted.

“Am I about to star in a horror movie?”

Yeojin chuckles. “Let me rephrase. I’m glad you came without Haseul. She wasn’t rude,” Yeojin clarifies quickly. She swallows thickly and says with a wistful smile, “She just reminds me of someone. Back when I was human. The thing about getting older but not growing older is, you keep all the memories. Associations can be strong. The mind is active. It morphs and shifts and is prone to emotions. And we are most prone to our sense of smell. You’d think I’d remember her face first. Her laugh, how she watched over me. Her beautiful voice that tamed the most wild temperaments. Centuries have passed. Now the first thing I recognize is her scent. Sometimes I feel guilty, like it’s a disgrace to her memory. Other times, I’m just glad to have known her at all, no matter how she comes back to me.”

Jiwoo doesn’t understand until she’s approved to see Jinsoul the following week.

She walks into the barren part of the room. Jinsoul stands in her furnished half, pulling and pushing at the wings of a delicate paper crane with a childlike innocence Jiwoo misses sorely. Jiwoo steps up to the partition, pressing her palm against the smooth glass. Jinsoul’s eyes twinkle when she looks up and raises her palm.

“Jiwoo!”

As soon as their hands align, Jinsoul recoils with a hiss. It’s too soon. There’s still a considerable difference between their temperatures. Jiwoo schools her expression because the first time Jinsoul sees her in two weeks, it shouldn’t be one of pain.

“Hey, baby,” Jiwoo says softly.

“I missed you. So much,” whines Jinsoul as she plops onto the edge of her bed. “God you look beautiful.”

The way Jinsoul sighs makes Jiwoo swoon.

“I don’t think we’ve ever gone this long without seeing each other.”

Jinsoul grins. “I remember thinking month-long winter breaks were worth more than diamonds. Who knew I’d buy a train ticket at the crack of dawn, days after last semester’s finals to visit you two cities over?”

“Right before a blizzard hit, no less. You said I give the best hugs and your snuggle battery was running low.” Jiwoo tries not to cry.

“I don’t make the laws of the universe,” Jinsoul shrugs. “So what’s my angel been up to?”

Jiwoo wants to laugh because she doesn’t remember Jinsoul ever being this excited. Happy, yes, she’s always cheerful. But this Jinsoul in front of her is bouncing with energy. She should be thankful.

“Well this morning, a gigantic beetle flew in because Chaewon left the back door open. Hyunjin pitched the closest thing by her. She got it, but we had to scrape ten eggs off of the furniture. You know how cranky Jungeun gets when she’s hungry and has to clean.”

Jinsoul’s clutching her stomach and howling with laughter. The room looks so much brighter. Jiwoo takes this moment to cherish the sound and the warmth that blooms deep within her. Jinsoul begins imitating Jungeun, whose straight-teethed grimace she’s woken up to too many times in the freshmen’s dorm. Jiwoo glimpses Jinsoul’s canines. Their sharpness is bewitching.

“How is the new couple?” Jinsoul wiggles her eyebrows.

“You should ask how Vivi is. The poor girl’s been kicked out of Haseul’s room.”

Jiwoo doesn’t mention that she’s been sharing the spare room with Vivi. Nor how she always wakes up to Vivi hugging her, tissues littering the floor because she’d been crying in her sleep. Nobody steps into her and Jinsoul’s room for more reasons than anyone is willing to say.

“I’m surprised Haseul hasn’t found a Vegemite bomb under her pillow.”

“Who said she didn’t?”

Jinsoul snorts unabashedly. It’s music to Jiwoo’s ears. “Knew that bulk jar would come in handy.”

Jiwoo raises a hand and smacks the glass, aiming for Jinsoul’s shoulder. “You’re so mean!”

“College is a time to collaborate with other creative minds. We’re just too powerful.”

Jinsoul’s jaw drops and her eyes roll back as soon as the words leave her lips, resembling the dork on the quad that captivated Jiwoo nearly a year ago. Only a few front teeth show, and now the tips of her canines, then her mouth expands like a cavern. Jiwoo can see the back of Jinsoul’s throat when she guffaws. It’s so unladylike and so endearing.

“How are you?” Jinsoul asks when she calms down, her voice soft and drawling. Jiwoo could curl up on the floor and sleep.

“I’m alright. I miss you. We all do. Every minute.” Jiwoo doesn’t ask why she wasn’t allowed to say it earlier. It feels unfair now. She catches Jinsoul eyeing her arm. “Dr. Im said I’m recovering quickly. A side-effect of your premature venom. The scars will be faint. Hardly noticeable. So really, I should thank you,” she giggles.

With a glimmer of hope, Jiwoo sees she has the same effect on Jinsoul. Her laughs, her signature bright demeanor and beaming grin. They ease away the tense creases on Jinsoul’s forehead.

“It’s not your fault. Please believe me,” says Jiwoo. She knows Jinsoul doesn’t, but her girlfriend nods anyway. “Focus on yourself. Tell me. What’s new with you?”

Jiwoo relaxes and drowns in Jinsoul’s voice. It has a quality like the amber glow of a fire in the arctic wilderness. The world could collapse all around them, but they’re in their bubble. Together, serene, with stories aplenty and smiles to fill their bellies.

“Sooyoung said we’d go running and I said, ‘Hang on, I don’t do cardio.’ And she said, ‘This ain’t cardio. It’s freedom.’ And then she just dropped! Right off the ledge! She was ten buildings away in a second. So I jumped too. It felt like my stomach was in my esophagus. But the adrenaline. The thrill!”

Jiwoo tunes back into the conversation. She doesn’t know who Jinsoul’s talking about, probably her Handler. Jiwoo’s so happy that Jinsoul feels alive, taking her newfound abilities in stride. And yet…

“Jiwoo. Jiwoo! I can _breathe_ again! God, I don’t remember air smelling this sweet. The ocean breeze blocks the scent from the mainland, so I can finally breathe without losing control. I can roam around the city. It feels so normal. It’s only been a few weeks but I missed this so much. I can run down the street. Scale up a building like gravity can’t catch up. Race across rooftops faster than birds can fly. Nothing compares to that first crisp inhale when sunlight breaks the horizon. A hundred of us perched along the skyline just waiting. It’s almost sacred.”

There it is. Acid prickles in Jiwoo’s throat.

_Jinsoul always said I took her breath away_.

Yeojin’s words finally sink in and Jiwoo realizes how much it hurts to be in the same space.

The glass wall that separates them keeps Jinsoul sane while shattering every ounce of willpower Jiwoo has left. So naturally, she smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Biggest plot twist: Yeojin as a mature fictional character.


End file.
